I can’t stand all those extended fight scene movies from Asia.
The ludicrous way every dish washer is a shaolin monk in waiting.
Hanging in the air forever riding invisible bicycle sternums.
And recovery time is big with me.
Everyone seems invincible and I get lost
in all the fighting.
But such obvious hustles must bank well.
They keep making them for the money.
Not mine, but that doesn’t seem to mean anything.
With all those sensational flare gun posters.
Even the extras defying the basic
laws of gravity.
Ryan Quinn Flanagan is a Canadian-born author residing in Elliot Lake, Ontario, Canada with his wife and many bears that rifle through his garbage. His work can be found both in print and online in such places as: Evergreen Review, The New York Quarterly,The Rye Whiskey Review, Outlaw Poetry Network, Under The Bleachers, The Dope Fiend Daily and In Between Hangovers.
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